


Steve Rogers Was Judgment

by fmo



Series: Judgment AU (Tarot Card) [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Tarot Cards, discussion of steve's potential suicidal tendencies, judgment au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 02:39:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5074192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fmo/pseuds/fmo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you're little, they'll ask you to choose a card from a spread of the Major Arcana: 22 Tarot cards, all face-down. The one you choose is the same one you'll choose all your life: it's the card that dictates your personality, your fate, the struggles and strengths of your identity and your life.</p><p>Sometimes your card is surprising; sometimes it's exactly what anyone would predict. And sometimes a card that seems strange at first turns out to have told your future better than you knew. This is true for the Avengers, just as it is for everyone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steve Rogers Was Judgment

“I can offer you a chance. Only a chance,” the German doctor from Queens says. It’s all right, because a chance was all Steve was asking for. 

He has to hurry to follow the doctor out of the exam room, and then the doctor is opening a file. He pauses, glances at Steve again. “Incidentally, what is your card?” he asks.

“Judgment,” Steve says, proud. It’s not the best card—he’d rather have Justice, or maybe Strength, but at least Judgment is one decent thing he’s had going for him. _Taking a stand_ , that’s him all over, _hearing a call_ , except nobody else seems to hear it. The _being reborn_ part doesn’t quite fit, he admits, but you can always make a new start, can’t you? Maybe this is it.

But the doctor seems to like Steve’s answer; he smiles a little smile, kind yet almost conspiratorial, as if he and Steve have a secret to share. “A very good card,” the doctor says. “And where is the little guy really from?”

*

“It doesn’t mean—“

“Come _on,_ Pepper, I _know_ that. _Everybody_ knows that.” Every single day of Tony’s life, someone is telling him that the Death card doesn’t really mean death. It’s symbolic, Tony! It can mean _ending one phase of your life_ , _leaving behind old ways_ , _being part of a great change_. Which is so nice, except, as he’s privately aware, absolutely zero percent of those things apply to him. He loves his old ways, thank you very much. They’ve always worked great.

Pepper sweeps the newspaper away from his workbench. “Just ignore it,” she says, but there’s some softness in her voice. That harpy’s calling Tony “The Merchant of Death” now. Boy, does he regret those fun three hours with her back in . . . 2002? 2004? Whatever. The nickname’s catching on. Obie always says to ignore it too, but it can’t be good PR for the company.

When you’re as famous as Tony is, you can’t really help people knowing your card. There's nothing he can do, really. It doesn’t even matter because the Death card can totally be a really good thing and doesn’t mean death at all and so on. Tony’s father even had it as well.

*

“C’mon,” Clint says, holding out the old pack of cards Natasha always has around. 

Thor makes an effort to un-slump. “It does not work for me,” he says, looking noble in his tragic victory, like a beautiful lion. The shawarma seemed to invigorate him a little—not surprising considering how much of it he ate—but the whole imprisoning-his-murdering-psycho-brother thing really took it out of him again.

Cap, on the other hand, actually took a nap halfway through the shawarma and now, sitting next to Thor on the couch, seems more bright-eyed than he seemed before. “You tried it before?” Cap asks. 

“Yes, when I was exiled in New Mexico,” Thor says. “On the first attempt, I pulled out a receipt from the McDonald’s that should not have been there. On the second attempt, Dr. Selvig dropped the cards. Perhaps it is because I am Asgardian and not of Earth. We do not have cards on Asgard.”

Tony, sitting back in another (fancy, leather) armchair, sips from a big tumbler of something and says, “Everyone has a card. Even gods.”

“Why not give it another try?” Natasha says with a little casual shrug of a shoulder. This little shrug is one of her best persuasive techniques, as Clint knows. She’s perching on the arm of Clint’s chair.

“Very well,” Thor accedes at last, with a sigh.

So Clint fans out the cards on Stark’s coffee table (“no dropping them this way, but feel free to break Stark’s table”), and finally Thor reaches out to pick one.

He turns it over.  It’s Strength.

“Huh. I would’ve said Chariot,” Tony says. “The hammer and all.”

“No, I think it fits,” Bruce says from the other side of the couch. He seems a little uncomfortable, being squished next to Cap and Thor’s massive shoulders, but Thor invited him to sit next to him, so Bruce did. Actually, Thor barely even seems to think it’s odd that Bruce was the Hulk, even though they apparently actually fought and punched each other and everything. Maybe it’s normal in Thor’s alien-land to turn into big green monsters.

“But you are all strong,” Thor says, which is nice of him because there’s a definite gradient of strength going and Clint is aware that he is not at the end where Thor is.

“It doesn’t just mean strength,” Steve explains. “Look how the woman is with the lion—the strength’s tamed with gentleness. It means compassion, acceptance, strength of heart.”

Clint thinks about how Thor was so careful with Loki, at the same time he was scowling with shame and anger at the destruction Loki had wrought.

Thor looks again to the card and then back to Steve. “Thank you,” he says, the card seeming flimsy in his big hand. “That is the greatest compliment.”

Seemingly all out of words, Steve gives him a manly pat on the back, and then Stark re-directs everyone’s attention to himself by asking Clint what his own card is.

“Rude,” Clint says. “And it’s the Magician.”

Everyone looks surprised, which is just rude again. He’s an archer and sometimes a spy. _Concentration, talent, accomplishing targets_ and _awareness_ are basically his job description. And he never misses, so if that’s not magical, what is?

“The card of my friend Jane Foster is also the Magician,” Thor says with approval. He turns to Bruce: “And, friend, what is your card?”

In the space of a breath, there’s a look in Bruce’s eyes, and then Natasha’s saying, “Steve, you should tell Thor about yours. It’s funny, I don’t think anyone ever had a Judgment card that fit so well." 

Clint gains a little esteem for Steve when Steve immediately snaps to it and starts explaining about Project Rebirth and his time in the ice.

Well, Clint’s seen Bruce Banner’s SHIELD file, which includes card data. Bruce’s card is the Tower. _Sudden change_ , _explosion of anger_ , _having a downturn in fortune._ Poor guy.

*

There’s something uncomfortable in Nick’s stomach after he leaves Pierce’s office. Not the idea of Iron Man at a child’s birthday party, which sounds like a press conference waiting to happen, but something. The kind of something that Nick knows is worth paying attention to.

He’s always liked Pierce, or known he should like him. By all accounts, Pierce is a great man. Friendly, honorable, a great leader.

Thing is, Fury’s own card is the Emperor. What else would it be? Anyone would guess it, and that doesn’t bother Nick at all. _Protecting and defending_ , _being a leader_ , _creating a system_.

And Pierce is a leader, the same as Nick. Leaders don’t have soft cards like the Lovers or the Fool or the High Priestess. So Pierce doesn’t.

In fact, Nick is one of the few people who knows that Pierce has the Chariot. _Uncompromising force_ , _control_ , _domination,_ _ego._ Yes, some necessary qualities for a leader, for a man who spearheads change. And yet.

But Pierce is an honorable man.

*

Natasha touches the towel to her hair again, only a little aware that the softness of the image will touch Steve’s heart a little, break down those boundaries that he keeps up at every moment.

Maybe it’s that he just broke down a few of her own boundaries without even meaning to, when he said he’d trust her.

“By the way, my card,” she says. An impulse she gives into. “It’s the High Priestess. You might have already thought that.”

Such a little smile from Steve, but he says, “I did. It’s a good card.” It means something to hear that from him, because she’s noticed Steve knows his cards well.

 _Waiting,_ _the unconscious_ , _seeing what is concealed_. She likes it. It’s something that’s only hers, not the Red Room’s. It was hers before she was theirs. Like fate, people’s cards don’t change, which means it’s always been hers. Unless the Red Room was as much her fate as her card, but that’s a quicksand of thought she’d rather not step on.

At that moment, Sam pops his head in to tell them he’s made breakfast for them, and they’ve both been on the run for far too long, so the conversation is put on pause.

*

The water of the dam rushes beneath Sam’s feet, and Steve is still by his side, breathing steady and slow and staring out at the crashing waterfall. Steve’s still dead set on trying to rescue the man he sees as his friend—not like Sam thought saying anything to him would really make a difference. Everyone knows Captain America can’t be swayed, won’t ever give up. That’s what Sam is afraid of.

“You know what Bucky’s card was?” Steve says suddenly, out of nowhere.

“No,” Sam says. There’s not a lot about Barnes in the history books. “What was it?”

It’s a while before Steve replies. At last, like it’s the hardest thing he’s ever said, he says: “The Lovers.”

Sam nods, even though Steve’s not turning to look at him. Sam’s not making assumptions, but he’s also fairly sure there’s no story about Barnes having a fiancée or lover back home.

“When he fell,” Steve says, “someone told me to allow him the dignity of his choice.”

The Lovers: _deep bonds of love_ , _sexual desire_ , _making a moral choice_ , _defining yourself and your beliefs_.

“Until then,” Steve says. He looks up at the sky. “I . . . “

Sam waits.

“I guess I thought we were invincible,” Steve says, in the end. 

“I hear you,” Sam says. It’s the only thing to say. 

*

“I feel like we never really got introduced,” Maria says to Sam. There’s nobody else but them in the waiting room, but there are armed guards outside. Loyal SHIELD, as far as anyone can tell any more. At least Maria’s sure that Sharon Carter is loyal.

Natasha’s gone somewhere with Fury; Maria thinks Natasha still feels safer with him, especially since Steve’s in surgery and Hawkeye’s in Europe. Also, Natasha and Fury are still injured; Maria hopes they’re actually getting rest or even medical attention.

So it’s just Maria and Steve, waiting for Steve to get out of surgery. They might be all Steve has, and both of them barely know him, although he seems closer to Sam than he’s been to anyone.

“Yeah, it was a weird few days,” Sam says dryly, and Maria can't help but laugh a bit; it's probably funnier because they're both so exhausted. Steve’s shield is leaning against Sam's legs, and Maria would bet he’s not going to let it out of his sight until Steve wakes up. He’s still got a smudge of dirt on his face, too, since he came right to the hospital as soon as Steve was found and hasn’t left since.

The clock ticks. They share brief life histories, get some snacks from the vending machine, check their phones and assure people they’re still alive. It’s not that Maria thinks Steve would really want to see her when he wakes up, but she doesn’t want to leave Sam alone either. He’s a veteran, too, and he just went back into combat a few hours ago.

Also, Steve Rogers should have more than one person waiting for him.

In the second hour, they’re done all the first-date questions, so finally Maria says, “Is it weird if I ask you what your card is?”

“Dude, we saved the world together,” Sam says, his dimples showing. “You can ask me. It’s the Star.”

 _Hope_ , _generosity_ , _inspiration_ , _peace of mind_. It’s not a common card to have. “How nice,” Maria says, and then wishes she’d said something that expressed it better than “nice,” but Sam seems to get it.

“Thanks,” he says. “Honestly, I didn’t really get it when I was a kid. Especially when I went into the Air Force, it seemed a little off-base. But I guess our cards are really what we have to live up to.” He shrugs, modest. It’s really a lovely card. “How about you?”

“The Heirophant,” Maria says. Her mom was a college professor who had the Heirophant, too. It made more sense for her—she _sought knowledge_ , after all. As for Maria, the parts of herself that she sees in it aren’t all good. _Loyalty to a group_ , sure. _Conforming to rules_ , _learning from a teacher_. The teacher would be Fury, but the following rules? Doesn’t seem like so much of a virtue, especially now.

“Makes sense that you were the one Director Fury was sure was loyal,” Sam says.

“Yeah,” she says. It does make her feel better. He really is the Star through and through, isn’t he? “Might be time to shake up the rules, though.”

Sam nods. “I don’t think our cards are everything,” he says. “Just a piece of the story. I’m really not serene any of the time, so.”

Maria smiles. “Except for Steve’s,” she says, as it occurs to her. He’s famous for being the perfect example of his card. “He’s Judgment through and through. I mean, really.”

Steve’s rebirth with the Serum and then again from the ice; his call to heroism and his destiny; his refusal to back down: it's all part of Judgment. When Steve had spoken to everyone in SHIELD and told them to stand up for what was right, they’d all known who to follow, because everyone knew that Steve Rogers’ side was always the side of right.

Then, for the first time, she thinks of the other part of Judgment, the part that people don't bring up with Steve because it doesn't seem to fit. She remembers how Steve had shouted to her on the helicarrier, telling her to fire. She’d obeyed his order, hadn’t she? Of course she had.

But Steve _chose_ to go down with the helicarrier, and with the man he thought was his friend. Maybe it was even his plan all along. And she and Sam both know why.

That's the other piece of Judgment: atonement. Judging oneself for past sins and mistakes. Seeking forgiveness.

“Yeah, he is,” Sam says. His face says that he sees it too. Steve judges hard, especially when it comes to himself. Thank God he has Sam.

And then the doors to the operating room open. Steve is healing already, the doctor says. Hard to tell when he’ll wake up, but it will be soon. They're moving him to recovery now.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment! It's so great to get those comment notifications after working so long on a fic. 
> 
> I used several sites for Tarot reference but primarily this one: http://www.learntarot.com/cards.htm.
> 
> I'm kind interested in doing more spotlights/little pieces in this 'verse, if anyone's interested.
> 
> If you want to chat to me/give me prompts/whatever, find me at fmowrites.tumblr.com.


End file.
